


The Mask

by crystalkilljoy



Category: The True Lives of the Fabulous Killjoys (Comic)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-08
Updated: 2019-01-08
Packaged: 2019-10-06 09:54:11
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 400
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17343143
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crystalkilljoy/pseuds/crystalkilljoy
Summary: How does one become a Drac?(inspired by a conversation in the Zone Zero discord)





	The Mask

_ Fuck _ . The killjoy was being guided into a room. Which room, they didn’t know- they just had a feeling. A bad feeling.  _ Fuckfuckfuckfuck _ . They just had to get caught. Just because of one record. One song.

They mask- no, not a mask. A mask was freedom, was living, was  _ breathing _ . This was like suffocating on tar. The heavy fabric was removed, revealing the room to the killjoy.

It was white, too white. They were used the the yellows of the sand and gasoline, the reds of blood and hair, the greens of cacti and guns, the blues of cars and bandanas. They were used to the warmth of the Sun’s deadly rays and the cold of the unforgiving Moon. They were used to the heavy weight of a weapon on their left, and the shoulder to lean on on their right. But this was just... blank. A void of light. A cold, lifeless, heaven. Death would be less painful. Far less.

Along the wall were- no, it couldn’t be. They screamed. They yelled. They clawed, trying to climb over their captors. They were masks. Sad parodies of killjoys who only killed.

Draculoids.

_ You’ll never take me! _ They cried.  _ You’ll never take me alive! _

No one knew how Dracs became what they were. No one wanted to know. Occasionally, a killjoy will walk around the desert, preaching a mix of lies and secrets about BL/ind. They would say the same thing: the Witch saves all, the Director saves none. But Dracs were never brought up.

They fought for as long as they could. It wasn’t even a valiant, heroic fight. It was, like most fights, a harsh reminder. It reminded others of why they fought, and why they haven’t won. It reminded others to always watch their backs. The killjoy had tried to watch their back. They tried to watch, to feel, to hear  _ everything _ . They tried to  _ live _ .

The white mask was pulled on. It felt... it felt like nothing. Everything felt like nothing. They were screaming, but now, now they were silent. They were blind. They wanted to yell, to cry, to experience the pain of life, but instead, the Drac just stood there.

The next thing they remember is the falling of a body. Not just any body, their right hand ‘joy.  _ No _ , they reminded themselves,  _ this is an enemy. This is the mask of a traitor _ .


End file.
